Mystery of Witch Hunters

Prologue

Have you ever wondered who set the rules of this ridiculous world? Of course, you have. Everyone at least once in their life grumbles about tough homework, strict parents, or the inability to get a dog. My luck was even worse. When I turned seventeen, my parents sold me to a witch-hunter academy.

Well, not exactly 'sold.' It's just that I'm not exactly a beloved child, and the academy pays families a good monthly allowance for their students. Hand over your children so we can turn them into hounds, and we'll pay you for it. Of course, they don't take just anyone. First, they test you and measure you from head to toe like a lab rat, and then, if they like you, you are sent to an introductory course, based on the results of which a decision is made about your enrollment in the academy. I could have failed it, of course, but something tells me that my parents would have kicked me out of the house for such a blatant disappointment of their high hopes.

So here I am. Actually, life here isn't the worst. You get an almost-your-own room (except for the gloomy top-student roommate), the food is not bad, and the uniform is provided by the academy. The classes are generally not difficult - just listen and execute, and the teachers are almost not annoying.

There are only two 'buts.' The first is that after graduation, you will have to kill people (although witches are not really considered 'people' here).

And the second is that recently, I discovered I have magical powers myself.

And my classmates will be hunting the likes of me.